


The Chain

by ShayTsun



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Fix-It, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 08:22:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28468206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShayTsun/pseuds/ShayTsun
Summary: The story of Ryker "V" Kunning, my V. I found that I was dissatisfied with many of the interactions and progressions in the story, so this is my attempt to alleviate some of my many, many feelings. Especially when it comes to Goro Takemura. It will be mostly canon at first but it will start to diverge more and more as I continue to progress the story and further interact with the characters in different ways that I believe should have happened in canon. As these two men fight side by side for their future, they'll find they have so much more to lose than their lives.
Relationships: Goro Takemura/Male V, Goro Takemura/Original Male Characters, Goro Takemura/V
Kudos: 14





	1. The Fool

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is my first work in a while, and even then I only ever wrote one story before. I hope yall enjoy this story as much as I do. I've got PLANS, and I'm hoping yall stick around for as long as I'm updating this. I hope the holidays treated you well, and happy new year!

Consciousness came back to Ryker slowly.

And when it did, a small part of him wished it hadn’t come back at all. That complete state of numbness he felt before his systems started to reboot... He briefly wondered if that's what dying in his sleep would have felt like.

Just… nothing, the emptiness, the bliss. One might even say peaceful.

It terrified him to no end. His own mind was already failing the fight against the relic. The last thing he needed was to lose the fight against the little voice in his head telling him to just lie there, to give up. He shook his head in an attempt to derail that train of thought.

He was alive, for now. There was still a chance he could save himself. Someone somewhere had to know how to help him.

Optics rebooting, the first thing he saw was nothing but a black void with the red warning text flashing across his vision. He waited for what felt like ages, and just as the panic started to set in at the thought of the relic frying his Kiroshi’s for good, his optical systems seemed to come back online. Blurred, painting his room in a nauseating shade of blue and red, but back nonetheless. He knew the discoloration would fade, just like it did in Victor's clinic.

As Ryker laid there in his bed, he tried to recount the events that led him to where he was now. Konpeki Plaza. Stealing the relic. Watching Saburo get flatlined by Yorinobu, his own son. Desperately trying to figure out a plan with T-Bug.

_T-Bug…_

He could still hear her pained cry as her synapses burst into flames, the sound of static as comms broke. Sure, they weren’t that close with each other, but he still considered them chooms. They’d been through a lot together, and Ryker found that she was one of the few he could rely on in this city after his “fall from grace” at Arasaka.

And it was his fault that she was dead.

Now, he knew that wasn’t the case. She knew what she signed up for. Knew the risks. They all did. But no matter what Ryker told himself, nothing seemed to convince his own mind that it wasn’t just their luck finally running out. Part of him felt like if he was _better_ , if he was _smarter_ , then T-Bug would still be alive. Both her and Jackie.

He felt like he had short-circuited at the thought of Jackie. Ryker could try and convince himself all he wanted about T-Bug, but when it came to Jackie he had no walls. Jackie was _there_ , with him the whole way. His partner in crime. And when it came down to it, Ryker wasn’t good enough, fast enough, or smart enough to think of a way to save his best friend.

Jackie had saved his life, brought him in, and gave him a place to stay when Ryker felt he had lost everything. It was a debt that he knew he could never repay, although he certainly tried. He offered to pay rent, buy groceries, even clean the entire house. No matter what he tried, he has always been turned away. It was either “You’re a guest in this house, mijo,” or “Chill, V! We’re here for you, let me.”

He should call her, he knew it. She cared for Ryker like he was her own, always checking in on him, making sure he was fed and well. He had no doubt that she loved him. But that didn’t matter now, he couldn’t even protect her _real_ son when it came down to it, and if she hated him for it, he couldn’t blame her.

Ryker balled his hands into fists as he sat up from his bed, nausea giving way to the rage he felt swirling inside. He wanted to scream, to cry, to destroy his _whole goddamn_ apartment. Just do something to stop feeling so helpless, worthless. He stood and started to pace the length of his room, anything to get this awful energy out of his system. It had the opposite effect, as every step seemed to bring him closer and closer to the brink. He reached for his lamp, mind akin to that of a feral animal, and just as he was about to send it through the tv, a notification appeared in front of his vision.

_Incoming Call:_  
_Takemura_

Almost like a shock to his system, Ryker froze mid-throw. He couldn’t recall knowing anyone by that name but as he looked in his peripherals and saw the face of the man on the other end of the line, the memories hit him like a gorilla fist to the stomach. This man was the one who put Dex in the dirt, who backhanded the ever-living shit out of him, only to later give him a pistol to fend off assassins sent after the both of them.

But most importantly, he remembered the ride to Vic’s clinic, Delamain instructing Takemura how to save his life. He had saved his life. Bewildered, he answered the call.

“H-hello?” Ryker hesitated, unsure how to proceed as he slowly lowered the lamp still clutched in his hand.

“Takemura here, we must meet. Tom’s Diner.”

His voice was gruff, blunt, but level. Ryker tilted his head slightly, curiosity plain as day on his features. Whatever this was about, he would at least listen to what he had to say, he owed this man that much. After all, it got him out of his apartment and better yet, out of his head. His thoughts continued to wander, until he heard Takemura clear his throat, clearly waiting for a response. His eyes widened slightly, and his face and ears turned a light shade of pink from embarrassment.

“Sorry! I’ve just got,” He paused, trying to find the words. “ _Stuff_ on my mind. I’m sure you can imagine. I can meet you there, just need a moment to collect myself.”

Ryker wandered towards his bathroom as he spoke, looking at himself in the mirror. He looked haggard, bags under his eyes an indication of his restless nights. It came to his attention that he had no idea how long he was out, though looking at the date…

_Two weeks_. He was out for _two whole weeks_?!?

No wonder he looked like shit.

His attention snapped back to Takemura as he spoke.

“You must hurry. This is an urgent matter. I am being hunted. Staying in one place for too long could prove fatal.” His image turned and peered over his shoulders as he spoke, taking in his surroundings for any sign of danger. If his situation was half as precarious as Ryker assumed it was…

“Be there in ten, fifteen minutes tops.” And with a curt nod from Takemura in response, the call ended, leaving Ryker alone with his thoughts once more. At least now he had something to focus on.

He turned the shower on in his bathroom, leaving it to run as he moved over to his closet to grab some clean clothes, thankful that he had washed laundry before his last gig. Black joggers, a white t-shirt, and a black hoodie. Casual and comfortable, just what he needed right now. He left the pile of clothes on his couch as he made his way back into the bathroom, undressing and taking a warm, albeit more brief than he would have preferred, shower.

As he stepped out and dried himself off, he stole a glance at the time. Five minutes had already passed. Cursing himself, he stepped out into his living room, quickly throwing on his clothes and he pushed his short hair back and off to the side in a small attempt to style it. He slipped on his running shoes and bolted out the door, checking his watch.

_Ten minutes._

Five minutes left to get to Tom’s diner. Plenty of time, but he’d have to run. No biggie, running was one of his strong suits. As he rounded the corner and bolted into the elevator, he took the moment to try and calm himself as he descended. His emotions were running high, strung out from not having time to really deal with what he had been through in the last few weeks, the last few months if he was being honest with himself. He was no stranger to stress, the Corpo world made sure of that, though that didn’t mean he was any better at handling it than anyone else. In fact, it probably made his anxieties worse, come to think of it. He started a countdown timer in his head in an effort to pace himself.

_Old habits die hard, I guess._

At least back then he had Jackie. He had helped him through so much, always willing to lend a hand when he could, intently listening to Ryker’s many, many rants about work. Hell, even was a shoulder to cry on more times than he’d like to admit.

But that was all over now, he was alone, and all Ryker seemed capable of doing was thinking in circles about what he had done wrong.

_Three minutes._

A heavy sigh escaped him as he slouched, elevator doors sliding open. If it was any other time, he’d have considered finding a therapist. Or at least someone to anchor him. He needed help, he knew, but he was dying. Time wasn’t really on his side here.

He lowered into a running stance and took a deep breath.

Fighting with his own mind, both literally and metaphorically, would be pointless and a waste of time. He bolted out of the elevator, a new feeling of determination taking over him as the wind rushed past his face as he deftly evaded other passers-by, weaving in and out of the masses.

Others had sacrificed much trying to make sure he made it to this point, some even laying down their lives. Sure, they hadn’t intentionally done it, but it happened all the same. If he were to just throw in the towel now…

He leaped into the air, soaring over more railing and piles of street trash as he rounded another corner, Tom’s diner coming into view.

_One minute._

No, quitting wasn’t in the cards. To do so would be to spit on their memory.

He was either going to survive this or die trying.


	2. The Chariot

Ryker’s pace slowed to an eventual stop as he approached the crosswalk that led to Tom’s Diner, progress being halted by the onslaught of cars that never failed to race through the streets of Night City. No matter how long he lived here, it always seemed to catch him off guard by how reckless everyone was behind the wheel. He leaned against the sensor that informed the traffic control light someone was trying to cross as he frowned.

Growing up in the Corporate world, he had very little need to go out personally, his family’s household being maintained by the trove of servants his parents had hired. Groundskeeping, gardening, even restocking the refrigerator, they did it all. And in the rare occurrence he had to physically go someplace? He could kick back and call a taxi. The only time Ryker had to lift a finger was in his education, being groomed to follow in his father’s footsteps and find employment within Arasaka counterintelligence. 

He swallowed as he entered the precipice of Tom’s Diner, feeling as though his heart had crawled into his throat. There would be a time for expressing these feelings later, right now he had to stay focused.

Ryker gave the diner a quick scan as he tried to locate the man he was supposed to meet there. Upon finding Takemura in a secluded booth in the corner, he exchanged a polite greeting with Tom. The aroma of the food elicited a response from his stomach, begging him to order his usual. He transferred the funds to Tom, knowing he needed to eat something, and that there were far worse places to eat within Night City.

He checked the time on his Kiroshis as he approached the booth. 10:57, exactly 15 minutes since he left his apartment. Congratulating himself for being punctual, a small grin pulled at his lips as he sat down in front of the bodyguard.

“V, you look well,” Takemura spoke as he rested his cup on the table. “Then, in the car, I doubted you would survive.”

Any other time and Ryker would have had to hold back a chuckle, but in his current state, he found it hard to find the humor in this situation. Sure, he probably looked pretty all right for someone who had come back from the dead, but to say he looked well would have been short of a lie. He had seen himself, and while he wasn’t dead, he had never looked so haggard in his life, not even during his lowest point. Though, thinking about it, this was probably an all-new low.

The man sitting across from him, though… he looked better than ‘Well,’ as he had put it. He was freshly shaven, and his hair was properly styled and secured into a tight bun. Not to mention the sharpness of his attire, looking as though it had come straight from a dry cleaner. The only sign of the contrary was the wrinkling on and around the collar, which was being left open just enough to expose the cybernetic neck that spread down to the man’s torso. Ryker found it distracting, to say the least, but soon realized Takemura’s eyes were ever more attention-grabbing, the rings of light encircling his pupils, giving the appearance of two solar eclipses, right here in this diner.

Ryker quickly averted his eyes, staring at the holographic cherry blossom tree outside the window as he prayed the warmth on his face didn’t give him away.

“I’m aware I have you to thank for that.” Vik and Misty tended to his wounds, but without Takemura, he knew he would have never made it to the clinic in the first place. Confident the blush that had crept onto his face was gone, he turned back to the older gentleman, giving him a small smile. “So thank you, truly.”

Ryker knew he owed them all a great deal and intended to pay them all back, starting with the man sitting across from him now. He draped his left arm over the back of the booth as he relaxed into his seat.

“I’m curious, though. Why? Save me, I mean.” Ryker’s brow furrowed as he contemplated. “You’re no scrapper, clearly. And you definitely didn’t just happen to be in the right place at the right time. Besides, I recognize you from…” he paused, rubbing his chin as he chose his next words carefully, in the off chance that someone was listening. “I’ve seen where you work. Even bumped into you once,” Ryker gave a slight chuckle “Though I don’t think you noticed me at the time.”

If Takemura found his comment humorous, he did a good job of not showing it, face as stoic as ever. Ryker continued, “This about the biochip?”

Takemura picked up his cup once more, grasping it with both hands as he leaned into the table. His lips parted as he blew softly into the lid, taking a measured sip. A rumble resonated in his throat as he let out a deep hum. “The biochip, I hear any attempt at extracting it would be fatal,” He continued, shaking his head in the process. “If I had wished for you to die, we would not be having this conversation.”

As if sensing someone’s approach, Takemura bristled as the waitress moved just outside of his field of vision on her way to their table, only slightly relaxing as she rested a plate of synth-eggs and bacon in front of Ryker, accompanied by a tall glass of water. Offering her his thanks, Ryker transferred her a small tip in exchange, earning him a small grin as she returned to her work.

Ryker took up his glass and deliberated, feeling refreshed as the water traveled down his throat. Whatever this meeting was about, it clearly put his current dining companion on edge. If not about the biochip, then what else? Nobody did anything out of the goodness of their heart these days, especially in Night City. He needed something, no doubt about it. Though it was evident that Takemura was hesitant to say outright what it was.

No matter, Ryker thought to himself. He had played this game before. Hell, for the longest time, it was his job. And while he was absolutely sick of it, he’d humor this man at least for a little while longer.

“Then what is it that you ‘wish for’?” Ryker rested his cup on the table, trying not to glance down at the food in front of him as his stomach rumbled.

Takemura had no such reservations. Glancing down at Ryker’s plate, his face contorted for a brief moment, acting as though the food had directly insulted his character. Ryker couldn’t find it within himself to fault the man either. After all, he had been there himself not too long ago. Part of him still was, if he were being honest with himself. Takemura turned his attention back to Ryker before speaking.

“First things first, I need to know the location of Evelyn Parker.” Hairs on the back of his neck rose as Ryker tried to suppress the tightness that enraptured his chest and threatened to overtake his body. Takemura was clearly more knowledgeable than he let on. Accompany that with the fact that he played with his cards held so close...

It was nerve-racking, to say the least. Ryker had no idea what Takemura was truly capable of. Sure, he had seen glimpses of him in action as he faded in and out of consciousness. He was certainly capable, Ryker just didn’t know by how much. To calm his nerves, Ryker let out a measured breath before speaking, the tightness in his chest only partially fading away as he tried not to let his unease show.

“You said this wasn’t about the biochip. You gonna tell me why I should tell you where she is?” He refused to let Takemura know that he hadn’t been in contact with Evelyn ever since the failed heist, at least not so soon. ‘No information is free; counterintelligence 101.’ Where most people believed Night City ran on money, Ryker knew that information was a much more powerful currency. Knowing the right people, having the right intel at the right time could get one rich faster than Eurodollars ever could. Money was nothing more than a side-effect.

He loathed this part of himself, this level of deviousness that seemed to permeate his entire being. Jackie had once referred to it as his ‘Corpo-side,’ and while he was just joking at the time, Ryker couldn’t help but see the truth behind it. It infuriated him to no end, but no matter how much he tried to suppress it, to leave that part of himself behind, it always seemed to catch up to him.

“She and Yorinobu Arasaka had intimate relations. She knows how to get to him.” Takemura spoke matter-of-factly. Ryker squinted in response. More information was given, but still not enough to satisfy. If this conversation kept going in this direction, they’d be talking forever.  
Forever was not an option.

“Look, you’re clearly more than capable of figuring these things out by yourself.” Ryker pointed down towards his food, his patience reaching its limit. “Now unless you want me to take my breakfast to go, I’d suggest getting right to the point. Not gonna waste what time I do have talkin’ circles when I could be figuring out how to save myself.”

Ryker moved to raise his hand in the air in an attempt to flag down the waitress. Takemura rose slightly, leaning halfway over the table and grabbing Ryker by the wrist, pinning it in place against the table. Ryker tried pulling away only once before looking up at Takemura, eyes wide.

“V, Wait! I need you.” Takemura’s voice was coarse and demanding as his gaze drilled into Ryker, glowing optics seemingly at war with Ryker’s blue irises. They stayed like that for what seemed like forever, Ryker becoming exceedingly more flustered as the other man continued to show his willpower. 

Ryker was the first to break eye contact, fully aware of the attention they had garnered from other patrons as he found solace in the view from their booth’s window once more. “I’m listening, just… just tell me straight, alright? Not exactly as patient as I used to be.”

Upon hearing this, Takemura let go, back straight as a board as he sat back down. A fire had lit behind his eyes, giving the soft glow of his cybernetics a sinister undertone. 

‘Here I thought this man couldn’t get any more intense,’ Ryker thought to himself.

“Yorinobu Arasaka must answer for his crime of patricide.” His hands balled into fists as he spoke, leaving them to rest on the table.

Ryker scoffed at this. “Whatever your plan is, it’s not gonna work. Yorinobu’s already got this city wrapped around his finger. Anyone who dares to stand against him won’t be left standing for long.” With Saburo Arasaka gone, Yorinobu was the most powerful man in Night City and, debatably, in the entire world. 

Takemura tilted a brow at this, hands once again clasping in front of himself. “But that has not stopped you before.” He continued, choosing to ignore the glare Ryker leveled his way. “I have allies prepared to bring Yorinobu to his knees. A witness is all the proof I would need.”

“Not to be the bearer of bad news, but you know they’d never believe me, right?" Ryker paused, relaxing back into his booth as he took another drink from his water. "For all they know you coulda grabbed any random Merc off the streets.”

Takemura looked outside the window, contemplative. "I have nothing better now. Also, I know no one here, and I am a fugitive. I am hunted." His gaze turned back to Ryker, shoulders rolling forward slightly. While Takemura maintained a dignified appearance, that sentence was practically an admission to his hidden desperation. He was yet another soul in Night City; lost, grasping at straws to return their lives back to any semblance of normalcy.

Still, it wasn't that bad of an idea. Yes, the plan left much to be desired, but it would get Ryker in contact with high ranking officials within the company. High enough that, if they owed him a favor, could potentially help him with his current situation. While the idea of working alongside Arasaka once more didn't sit well with him, Ryker realized he didn't have that many other viable options. At least for the moment.

"Alright," Ryker stated, "But we're gonna need a solid plan first. Waltzin' into the front doors and demanding to talk to... anybody, really, sounds like a great way to get shot. For both of us."

Takemura gave a slight nod in response. "We will get the hearing before reasonable people, in a neutral location. Technology will be used to prove you are speaking the truth."

Waving his hand in dismissal of the idea, Ryker spoke up. "Reasonable people? I'd say any hope of reason went out the window the moment they sent assassins our way." Nevermind the fact that finding a reasonable Corpo would be near impossible. Not only this, but Arasaka would still have his information held within its database. They would be aware of the training he had endured to trick any lie detectors they could hook him up too. 

They sat quietly, Takemura drinking from his paper cup as he stared out the window. Ryker's attention was mainly focused on the table, lost in thought as he sat, trying to imagine the 'contacts' that Takemura could still have within Arasaka.

He remembered his own separation from Arasaka. His old contacts were of no use to him, avoiding any forms of contact for fear of being guilty by association. It was all part of the game, a play you had to make to survive. He had done it many times himself, looking back, so he understood.

Though that doesn't mean it didn't hurt any less. Even more so when his own family dropped him like nothing. Ryker frowned before diverting his attention to the television visible from his booth. 

The news channel, he realized. Hanako was being interviewed. Ryker reached over and tapped the table in front of Takemura, grabbing his attention before redirecting it towards the screen. Information, no matter how small, could prove valuable in deciding their next steps.

Greetings were shared between the interviewer and Hanako, but just as questions were about to start being asked, the channel changed, Tom mumbling under his breath, something about 'Saka scum. While unfortunate, Ryker wasn't bothered; information was easy to find online, specifically propaganda. 

His dining companion, however, thought differently. 

"Hey! I was listening to that!" Takemura exclaimed, exasperation evident in his tone.

Tom scowled, words laced with disgust. "Shut up. Nobody 'cept you wants to watch that shit about that corpo cunt."

Takemura stood, his hands balled into fists as he rose. "What did you say?"

"You heard me!"

Before Takemura could respond, Ryker was out of his seat as well, standing next to Takemura as he firmly grasped his shoulder.

"Sorry," Ryker spoke, voice tight. "My... choom here hasn't been feeling himself lately." He let go of Takemura's shoulder, moving forward to lean on the counter and flashing a smile. "Trying times for everyone, no?"

Tom squinted, eyes trained on Takemura for a moment more before turning towards Ryker. His features softened slightly. "'Course they are, for everyone. Don't see other customers yellin' at me."

"Right," Ryker nodded, relenting. "I'll keep a closer eye on him. Here," his eyes flashed orange as he initiated a small transfer. "For your trouble."

Tom dismissively waved his hand. "Yeah, yeah, just don't let it happen again." He returned to his work as Ryker turned around, smile fading from his face as he gave Takemura a look. He tilted his head as an indication to sit. After a slight hesitation, Takemura's head bowed forward slightly, suddenly sheepish as he realized the scene he had caused. He followed Ryker back to the booth.

"Picking fights with restaurant owners is definitely an... interesting way to lie low." Ryker drank his water, eyes never leaving the man in front of him.

Embarrassment weighed Takemura down, head and shoulders bowed in shame. He spoke, though refused to look up from the table. "I'm sorry, a stupid reflex."

Ryker sighed in response, not being able to find it within himself to be upset. It felt as though he was looking at a kicked puppy. "It's alright. Happens to the best of us." He tapped the table in front of Takemura to pull him from his thoughts.

"Anders Hellman, think he'd be able to help us?" Ryker retracted, leaning back into his booth as Takemura's head rose slowly, eyes squinting.

"You know this name how?"

"Researched the relic, figured any info could help us during the heist." He sighed, thoughts wandering for a moment before continuing. "He created it. If anybody wants to recover it, it'd be him, no? We could possibly spin it in a way for him to owe us a favor." It was a long shot, but it seemed as though that was all they had. It was just a matter of finding him.

"No. He betrayed Arasaka." He scowled. "We will find no help from him. I have someone much more powerful in mind. I need... time... to plan, organize. I only ask that you do not leave the city."

Ryker stared at him quizzically. "Leave? My best bet at resolving this whole mess is Arasaka. Leaving wouldn't help me at all." Picking up his fork, he poked at his breakfast, thoughtful. "Still think Hellman is a good of a start as any."

A soft hum emitted from the man across from him, grabbing Ryker's attention. "I have already spent many days looking for him. He is very meticulous. He covered his tracks very well." Takemura shook his head. "I have no idea where he has gone."

"I'll reach out, try my contacts. You said so yourself, you don't know anyone here. I'll probably have a bit more luck." While not much, Ryker had some semblance of street cred, definitely more than the ex-bodyguard before him. People might be more willing to work with him.

"Do what you want. Look for Hellman, or whoever you believe will help. I must see some friends, call in some favors." He rose, stepping away from the booth. "When my people in Arasaka are ready to listen, I will call you."

"Sounds good. I'll be waiting." He moved to take a bite from his food, finally free to eat without feeling rude. Before the egg could make it onto his fork, Takemura turned.

"If by some miracle you find Hellman, please notify me. He and I have unfinished business." The fire in his eyes burned once more.

"Course. Stay safe, Takemura." With a bow of his head in response, Takemura made his exit, leaving Ryker alone in the diner. He took his first bite of food, mouth curling into a slight frown as he discovered the food had cooled too much for his liking. Still, Ryker found his hunger too strong to ignore, continuing to shovel more and more into his mouth. He had almost started enjoying himself until a dull ache in his head caused him to groan slightly, resting his fork on his plate as he clutched his head in his hands.

The blue and red static that painted his vision told him all he needed to know. He exhaled, a mixture of fear and anger gripping him by the gut. 

Johnny.

As if on cue, he heard the pitter-patter of hands taping on the table where Takemura had once sat.

"Zapper-dumples and filth. In some ways, Night City never changes." Ryker grit his teeth, trying to ignore him as the pain amplified his anger. "Arasaka's still a despotic machine and the world's on a collision course with chaos."

Ryker, believing he had his temper mostly in check, looked up, glaring daggers at the other man as he propped his leg onto the table, precariously close to his meal.

"What the fuck do you want?!" There was an edge in his voice as he pulled his plate closer towards himself. Whatever it was, he didn't care in the slightest. Johnny had tried to kill him, and he was gonna be damned before he gave him another chance to do so again. Reaching into his pocket, Ryker cursed himself. In his haste to leave his apartment, he had left his pills next to his bedside.

Response laced with annoyance, Johnny spoke as though Ryker was supposed to already know this information. 'You don't need to speak out loud to talk to me.'

Ryker's face turned red as he noticed the looks he had garnered from other customers, pulling his hood over his head in reflex. He looked down at his plate, face curled into a scowl as his hands balled into fists.

'Still haven't answered my question you fuckin' parasite.' Ryker leaned back into his seat, crossing his arms.

'Are you still upset about the other night?' 

' "Upset" doesn't even begin to describe how I'm feeling. You tried to kill me!' It took all of Ryker's willpower to not lunge over the table and grapple him. It would accomplish nothing, save for making himself look more like a cyberpsycho than he already has. He pushed himself back into the seat further.

'Well, I gave it some thought and changed my mind. Don't want you dead anymore.' Ryker could feel Johnny looking at him. It was infuriating. 

'Very reassuring. If only I had half a brain, then maybe I'd believe you. Just leave me alone.' There was planning that needed to be done, people he needed to contact, but all he was asking for was thirty minutes just for himself and his breakfast. 

'We share a brain, dumbass, or did you already forget?' Johnny rolled his eyes, surveying the diner. 'I've taken a step back. Looked at things. Think we can help each other.'

Ryker scoffed, taking a bite of his breakfast. Maybe if he ignored him, he'd go away. Probably not, but it was worth a shot regardless. So he sat there, trying to become entirely distracted by his food and toning out any outside influences.

But Johnny was internal and continued speaking. Ryker really wished he brought his pills right now. 'Rogue can help us. I know you know where she is.'

Ryker stopped chewing as he looked at the rocker boy. He was shocked, mind running at one hundred miles per hour, but Johnny was able to keep up. 'Seen some of your memories.' He shrugged nonchalantly. Ryker felt his blood run cold.

Wordlessly, he rose from his seat, movements still and robotic as he had to physically restrain himself from lashing out. Everything was too much to process. He needed time, knowing full well that time was something he didn't have much of. 

He moved towards the exit, pulling his hood lower over his eyes to hide the haunted expression that he knew had appeared on his face. Johnny was shouting at him, telling him to turn around and listen, but Ryker was already distant, his part of their shared mind pulling away as far as possible. Johnny reappeared in the door frame.

'Can't ignore me forever. I'm in your goddamn head!' Johnny lunged at him, not unlike back at the apartment. This time, however, Ryker was in more control of himself, sidestepping and sprinting out of the exit in one fluid motion. He felt as though a weight was pressing down on his chest and he needed to break free.

So he ran, dodging others on the sidewalk and weaving through oncoming vehicular traffic as he made his way towards his apartment and the safety provided by the omegablockers. And he stopped for nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. I'm fortunate enough to still have a job in these trying times and they needed me! Enjoy.


End file.
